Tears of pain

I napped today. The kitties joined me and before long I woke up because I was burning up. Two kitties and a quilt will do that.

I talked to my mom. The dentist pulled one of her molars because it broke in two. The wait to see the dentist, who was a neighborhood childhood friend of mine, grew long and she said she started moaning so the nurse would come. The dentist came shortly after and after hammering and tugging, got the tooth out. Mother said the health nurse at her assisted living home told her she had lost too much weight and needed to gain some. So she ate cookies at snacktime.

The black cloud of a depression episode lingers nearby. I feel like a great weight presses me and a boiling mass of tears threatens to spill. Though my heart tells me differently, my head says I am worthless. I feel unwanted and unloved.

Miss you dude.

Not "music" to my ears

In my old age, I found naps do a body good. Because my vacuumer came yesterday about 1, I missed my nap. I kept telling myself the time for sleep had passed and if I should give in to the urge, I would be up half the night.

Somehow I managed to stay awake until 7, when I quit fighting the inevitable and went down for the night. I left extra kitty food down so that Momo would not poke me in the middle of the night.

Some Chicano rap startled me out of a sound sleep at 1:20 a.m. Actually, I awoke to loud talking , which was soon drowned out by the "music." I am not a big fan of rap, especially when it disturbs me in the middle of the night.

As I lay there pondering what I should do about the situation, my mind wondered about why my overhead neighbors had never played "music" before, not even in the daytime. I could hear the boards creaking as a couple of people with heavy footfall walked back and forth across the room. The "music" ceased abruptly after about 10 minutes or so as did the walking. Apparently my upstairs neighbor and his company left.

I fell back to sleep after a bit more pondering about what my neighbor was up to in the middle of the night with company, playing loud "music" on a Tuesday night. I came up with several ideas, one of which that the neighbor sells drugs. That seems the most likely, although he could have been home on his lunch hour and brought a friend.

One of my friends and former colleagues received the golden apple teacher of the year award from President Obama in a ceremony today at the White House. Obama was relaxed and cracked a couple of jokes. The Secretary of education also stood there, but said nothing. The nominees from the other 49 states and the District of Columbia attended and served as a backdrop.

When Shanna's turn to talk came, she wowed everyone. Her contagious smile and smart, sincere speech made all who know her proud.

I think a nap lures me soon.

Miss you, dude.

A good Monday

Mother Nature decided to deliver some much needed rain today. Though the rain fell during the night and all day today, the area still could use more moisture. I am glad I had no plans and can sit in my chair and watch the steady, slightly wind blown raindrops come down.

One of my friends from the old newspaper days who did a PACE program one summer and switched to teaching, first at the middle school level, then on to high school, today earned the title of national teacher of the year. Shanna Peeples deserves the honor and I am so happy she has garnered the attention she so deserves. She has raised two beautiful daughters in the process.

The Panhandle Press Association inducted another of my newspaper friends into its Hall of Fame this past weekend. David Stevens studied at WT, where he was a student of my dad's. He worked at the Globe-News during part of the time I did and then went on to become editor of the newspaper in Clovis, N.M. He deserves all the praise he has gotten.

I have found myself eating everything in sight again. Compensation eating, if you call a spade a spade. I am not hungry and if I consumed healthier fare, eating would not be so bad. When I go to the store, I grab cookies, candy, ice cream and pistachios. Then I get lazy and rather than prepare the chicken and veggies, I eat the fattening stuff. The candy compensates for lack of anything I perceive I do not have.

After I was quitted from work,  I lost about 70 pounds. The main reason for the loss was I also quit eating out so often. I need to gain control of my eating now or I will be back in the same boat. When you weigh more than you should, breathing, or for that matter doing anything is harder.

Miss you, dude. Laters.

Failed overture

Today I sent a message to someone who thus far refused my efforts at apologizing for something that I must have done. I tried one more time and got no reply. I have known this person for a long time. This rebuff of my efforts to apologize and become Facebook friends sent me spiraling into a pit of self-pity.

I've tried my best to redeem myself, now I must consider the issue a failure and move on. I cannot allow one person to affect my quality of life anymore. I am 66, and have two major lung diseases. Whatever time I have remaining on this earth should be spent with those who appreciate me, warts and all.

See, I talk a good talk, but sometimes my carry through fails.

For now, I blocked that person. I will take another anti-anxiety pill, and try to focus on those people who do care about me.

I wish you were still here, dude. You could talk me out of a blue funk in no time.

The art of framing

I journeyed to the framers to pick up four pieces I had taken to get framed.When I left them at the shop, the framer told me to come back in a week. He apparently works hard since none of my pieces had been done when I got there. While the framer worked to finish up, I took some photos of his shop. I worked with this young man's father at the newspaper many years ago. He looks like his dad though his personality shines more.

A customer interrupted him and I watched as she went through picking out matting and frames. A couple of the pieces were photos and the young man suggested putting them in the same frame. This woman teaches art and knows what she likes and what she does not like. I did find it interesting that on one of the pieces, she wanted the artist's name covered up. Not because she did not like the work, but because she did not like the signature itself. I hope the artist does not see the work and notice the name missing. 

Unfortunately, the one artwork I need to start hanging the pieces I have could not be done. The framer told me that Dallas, where he gets some of his parts, was out of the particular model, so he had to order it from Chicago. The pieces had not arrived today. He hopes they will come tomorrow, since a week has gone by since he ordered them. Sigh. I am disappointed, but nothing can be done.

The skies promise moisture but I fear they will not. Instead they will exhibit gloom and doom and deliver nothing. 

The last time I visited the grocery, a Manwich display blocked my way to the fruits and veggies, so I grabbed a can. I cannot remember the last time I had a Manwich. I prepared the concoction last night as directed. Although I had no buns, I served the red savory stuff over bread. Now I remember why I have not had Manwich in years. The stuff reminded me of eating meat and ketchup. I will not fall for sale items like that again.

I talked with a new friend online last night. We share a couple of mutual friends, so the conversation flowed pretty steadily. I will enjoy talking every now and then and possibly meet her when she comes this way again.

I got a surprise card in the mail today from a PHriend. We have known each other for awhile and I appreciated the thoughtfulness. Thanks Jen, you made my day.

I guess I have prattled on enough for one day. I am trying to write something each day to get back into the habit. Blame that on Evan. 

Miss you, dude. Laters.

News of the day

I am glad this day nears an end.

The o2 man delivered. He came 30 minutes late. The vacuumer worked today. She moseyed in 30 minutes late. I got a call from my mother. She appreciated my gift but said I really should save my money. (Last week she got the first gift and gushed.) A friend told me some distressing news and I tried my best to say the right thing but feel like I fell short. Another friend's life seems headed in the right direction and I felt her joy and exuberance. The phone rang with the same number on caller ID every 20 minutes for two hours. Just as I changed into my nightgown for the evening, the doorbell rang. The mail carrier delivered some meds that do not fit into my mailbox. I finally clean the kitchen and then I am hungry. The old man needed extra attention today but finally gave up after I got up one time too many. I counted my pills this morning, as I do every morning, to make sure the count was 10. Today, only nine pills. I looked and looked, could not figure out what was missing, and downed nine pills. C'est la vive. Many, many people suffer more than I, which brings on the guilt. Pointless, sure, but nonetheless true.

The end.

Meany me

 Yesterday I did something that I am ashamed I did. I unfriended and blocked two people that I had had a good relationship with up until I did the deed.

The situation first began with someone posting a disturbing video of a woman beating her toddler because the child would not quit crying. You could see another child who looked about 5 or so, standing next to the wall watching his mother beat the toddler. I did some checking. The incident on the video happened at least three years ago. I made a comment about sharing a video that old. I got what I considered a wise ass remark back. The remark and the defense of that remark by another person made me mad enough to unfriend both of those people.

I will admit my reaction was childish and immature. No excuses.

I have felt lately that too much time on Facebook causes my attitude to reflect the posts in general. Yes, some posts ring with happiness and sincerity, but many  others seem full of hate and bitterness. I need to limit my time on Facebook but I allow the goings on to take up a good portion of my day.

I should apologize, but I am not going to. If everyone wants to judge or take sides and unfriend me, fine. I am who I am.

Li-li-li-life goes on.

OK, Evan. Here it is.

I may die soon. That thought crossed my mind about six months ago. When thoughts come out of the blue like that, they almost always end up being the truth.

Not to seem morbid, but I find breathing harder and harder. Lack of exercise contributes a large part to the breathing problems. I find my days run together with lots of sleep and some eating. I feed my boys and spend an enormous amount of time on Facebook. The social media replaces face to face interactions with people. Since Facebook serves as my socializing, I do not dress or much of anything else.

Add to that mix major depressive disorder, and I hurt. The meds prescribed for me in January worked at first. Now not so much. I have sent emails to the doc and my next appointment falls at the end of May. Until then, I hold on as best as I can. I cannot predict when that gloomy cloud will roll over me nor even how long the spell will last.

The Accredo pharmacist turned me in to my lung doc because I cannot seem to work in the third sildenfil  tablet. I no longer have a cell phone nor do I have an alarm clock. So I take two pills instead of three. That means I have two full bottles of pills when I should have close to none.

I do not wear my o2 half the time when I am sitting because the cannula bothers my nose.

I will save politics for another day.

I miss you dude, still. Guess I always will.